


Because An Angel Should Never Touch Ground

by you_me_and_obsession



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, For The Moment, Major Character Injury, Possible Character Death, Self-Sacrifice, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unspoken Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:15:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_me_and_obsession/pseuds/you_me_and_obsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"All those behaviours, all those successive drinking nights, all the silent emotions in Dean's eyes, they were all because of Castiel, for Castiel"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because An Angel Should Never Touch Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm just kind of, moving my decade-old, long-written fics from my LJ to AO3, with selection, which means, only the ones with which I hopefully wouldn't be embarrassing myself too much. Still, these were written pretty long ago, and unbetaed on top of that; they might not be so smooth.
> 
> All the lyrics come from Broken Iris's [Beautiful Girl](https://youtu.be/u12HclXbC3M), all saved for the second verse, which is a part of one of my poems.

          

**_Woke today,_ **

**_Another memory passes of you_ **

**_Shades of gray from these three broken words_ **

**_That unfold the truth but…_ **

****

****

It's weird and so damn annoying. He can't sleep, despite the fact that he's worn out to his freaking bones. Sam has passed out in one bed and Castiel, long ago, in the other one. He's been standing just outside the window of the room, back against the wall, no beer. Night breezes caress his skin and somewhat soothes it from the sore wounds he's got earlier today. The events of the day keep playing back in his mind, strangely, in a fluent flow like a clip. He sees them, but he can't think anymore. What if Michael is right? What if there's no other way? But what the hell's with them keeping blabbering about how he and Sam are just like Michael and Lucifer? All that kind of crap, he's so damn tired of hearing. No matter what Sam has done, no matter how much of his brother he can't feel here, no matter how much of the dark side he's seen, deep inside Dean still has that feeling about Sam, that Sam is nothing like the devil. That he won't say yes. And if he won't, neither will Dean.

 _"Dean, there is another way. There will be"_ , Castiel whispered to him, eyes half opened, before passing out on his bed. Now the words echo with some soft kind of warmth inside him.

Turning around, he looks at Castiel through the glass. In his sleep, Castiel suddenly looks so young, a glow of peacefulness gently pervades his features, which Dean hasn't seen while he's awake. Something in Dean's chest clenches. There is something so innocent on Castiel's face that inside Dean aches all over.

He wonders just how much close to human Castiel is. He told them he was surprised he could make it back to the present, and Dean doesn't really want to think about it. He still remembers the first time Castiel had sent him back to the past, it hadn't been like this. When they arrived at 1978, Castiel had literally passed out, and now, he's _sleeping_. Dean knows he'll never know what Castiel has lost for them, for the faith he puts in Dean. It's heavy, too much weight to carry on his shoulders, too much pressure on his heart. Sometimes Dean feels like he can't even try to believe he can do this, but then he remembers all those things. The honest sorrow in Castiel's blue eyes while Dean tried to persuade him in that room. The determination in that clench of his jaw when he told Dean Lilith herself was the final seal. The way his voice screamed in the chaotic sounds of the coming archangel when he confided his faith in Dean to stop Sam. _"I'll hold them off. I'll hold them all off"._ Dean also remembers the sadness in Castiel's eyes when he asked how  Castiel came back. _He remembers the endless horrifying hollow that nothing could seem to fill when he heard from Chuck what had happened after the Castiel had faced down the archangel._

Sometimes, sometimes it's too much, but deep inside Dean knows he shouldn't let Castiel come any closer. He has suffered enough, eventhough he never speaks of it for once.

He turns away trying to swallow down the suffocation in his throat that's taking his breath away.

The bar is just two blocks away. Dean decides to walk. Above him, the stars quietly shine in their somber blue-tinted white light, and Dean wonders what it would be like to have a moment in the absolute space up outside the ending Earth.

 

 

  _And this silence falls flawlessly unbroken_

**_Where's my conscience? Without reasons_ **

**_I crucify myself at night_ **

**_Can't find a way to say_ **

**_"I have loved you"_ **

 

 

It's almost midnight when Dean comes back to their room, feeling more tired and easier to breathe. Maybe he can just crash on the couch.

A pale blue light catches Dean's sight. It's too soft for anyone to notice, but Dean's not anyone. Carefully, he takes out his gun and steps closer to the window.

"Michael", Castiel's voice startles Dean just as he settles himself next to the window and takes a look inside. Dean freezes. What the hell is Michael doing here? Ideas about the worst things flash through his mind. He has to struggle to stay where he is, and listens for the two angels in the room, and when he really sees what's happening in the room, Dean realizes Michael's not here to do any harm to Castiel, but for some other reason he feels his breaths uneven.

Michael, in another vessel that's not John Winchester, is standing in front of Castiel. His knees slightly press against the mattress, his fingers firmly holding both of Castiel's wrists. Soft glistening light emits from under his palm, like lithe cloud, sliding under Castiel's skin, creeping and filling his veins. Castiel leans his head backwards, and the sigh in the shape of Michael's name coming from his pretty lips almost kills Dean. When the light goes out, and Michael has his lips on Castiel's, Dean knows he should leave, he should run away, maybe back to the bar or something like that, but he can't move. He can't peel his body off the cold wall, can't tear his eyes away from the very scene, he can't force his feet to move. Why is he even here? Why's he even here when Michael is slowly pressing Castiel down in the bed, his fingers threading through the black locks of hair that Dean can feels on his fingertips throughout his every dream, his lips tasting the innocence that Dean would give anything to be the one who can protect. Why is he even here? He hates himself for not getting drunk, real drunk in that bar so he wouldn't recognize things anymore when he came back. Gathering himself, Dean forces his feet to start walking and heads for the bar, trying to leave reality.

The next morning, he doesn't know how he got back to the motel room.

 

"Dean, Dean you okay?"

He jerks awake to Sam's voice. Sam is frowning in his face and Castiel's looking at him from the bed, both curious and concerned.

"Dude, were you drunk?"

"I'm fine, Sam. Let's go. We're running out of daylight", Dean says and forces himself up, his head's still aching and his throat is burning.

"I'll see you", Castiel says with a slight nod, but Dean has no reply, he just keeps on throwing his stuff into his bag and ignores the angel giving him a puzzled face before disappearing in a rustle. For the second time within less than five minutes, Sam frowns again.

 

 

_"It doesn't have to be like this, Castiel"._

_Castiel remains silent, and Michael kisses his temple._

_"I can bring you back home. Our father's left, Castiel, I can bring you back home and no one will have a word about that. It doesn't have to be like this"_

_Castiel's still silent. He's missed this. He's missed being so close to Heaven, his home. He's missed being with Michael._

_Getting no reply from Castiel, Michael lifts his chin so he faces him, his breath hovering over Castiel's milky skin, and for no reason, he finds himself thinking of the way Dean's breath felt on his skin that time when he invaded Dean's personal space. He startles inside and blinks in confusion and embarrassment, his vessel- his heart beats a little faster, but he pushes all of that away and gets lost in Michael's lips and fingers, in Michael's grace. When Michael pulls back, he says quietly, "I'm doing what I believe is right, one day you'll understand it, Michael". Michael pulls Castiel closer, and he sighs against Michael's chest, trying to wipe away the unfathomable emotions in Dean's eyes that morning three days ago._

 

 

"You want dinner yet?"

"Nah. You go ahead"

"Okay… Want me to buy you anything?"

"More beer".

Sam opens his mouth to say something, but his brother probably hasn't looked so closed up since the incident with Gary that Sam doesn't really want to push it. Maybe another time. He grabs his wallet and leaves.

When he's back, Dean has fallen asleep. Sam sighs and puts the pie in the fridge. The next day, he wakes up to find Dean ready to leave without even touching it.

 

During the following weeks, Sam finds his brother perfectly normal, except that he's too perfectly normal. The number of demons they kill have doubled, and when he says doubled, he means the number he kills has remained the same. And one of the craziest things he can imagine is happening, here, Dean, his brother, is researching on his own laptop whenever Sam does the same with his own, and seriously researching. Dean's burying himself in doing the job, and he tells Sam jokes and calls him "bitch", but he can feel an invisible door has shut off right in his face, and every night when Dean thinks Sam is sleeping, he would go out, quietly, to some bar, and drink enough to fall asleep right away when he's back. Sometimes he would wake in the middle of the night and find Dean reaching for the whiskey, not knowing he's watching.

At first, Sam thought it was the nightmares about Hell again, but then he hasn't seen any sign like them, and not knowing the reason why his brother's acting this way just makes it worse. However, the worst part is still that Dean isn't gonna talk to him about it. There have been times when Sam wonders if it has anything to do with Castiel, considering the weird attitudes Dean has had towards him recently. Whenever Castiel shows up, Sam's practically the only one who talks to him. Dean greets him with only a nod, and then when Castiel speaks Dean does listens but he never says a word, and if Sam is not mistaken, he always tries to put the biggest distance between him and Castiel. Together with all those things is the scarce but intense look Dean gives Castiel. It's like nothing Sam has seen before. Not like with Cassie, not like with Lisa. Sam thinks he may be crazy, but there's something desperate and, okay Sam _is_ crazy, something like affection in that look. Some other times, he thinks maybe he's just imagining things, because hello, it's _Dean_. Most of the times, Sam just thinks he is so screwed and doesn't know what to do with his brother.

 

 

**_I'll never forget those eyes, that beautiful smile_ **

**_I still remember the way you said goodbye_ **

**_No matter how hard I try, I can't_ **

**_Forget about_ **

****

 

The looks and puckered faces Sam gives Dean tell him that his little brother is worried. For his part, a part of him feels ashamed to himself for being so pathetic. He's gone through this before, with Cassie, with Lisa, and he's gone through a part of it with other nice girls he's met. He's Dean Winchester, he's aware of the life he can't have, of the sentiments he can't dwell into and the things he has to leave behind, and he's aware that there are feelings of his which can't be made understood, end of  story. Why does it have to be so difficult with Castiel? Why have things felt so hopeless and why has he felt this desperation like the last days before Hell? Why does it have to hurt so much?

Maybe, just maybe it's because Castiel is different. Maybe it's because with Castiel it's not the life he can't have, and not the things he has to leave behind, but the life and the things he's afraid to lose. Maybe because with Castiel, it's a whole new kind of… He doesn't want to think about it. He can't let himself keep thinking about it.

 

 

It's a breezing evening and they're almost in the middle of nowhere. Doesn't look like they're going to reach the nearest motel before it totally blacks out. It's one of the rare peaceful twilights they've got these days when the world is ending. Sam appreciates it, lets the wind wash over him and allows himself to relax a little bit, watching the trees on the side of the highway.

Suddenly, the sounds of the Impala grate on the street jerks him back to reality. Dean just misses a truck in a narrow escape from death. Sam stares at him, panting, they both could've dropped down dead right there.

"Sorry. I… I'm just a little tired", Dean says apologeticly.

"Okay. Get to the back, Dean. I'm gonna drive. And no arguments".

To Sam's surprise, his brother just nods and climbs into the back seat obediently.

They spend the night in the car, and that's probably the fullest sleep Dean's ever got since their trip back from the past. Sam looks at his brother under the moonlight. He's only 31, but he looks at least 5 years older. 40 years in Hell, and Sam wishes his brother just told him what else he's suffering from.

 

 

**_Forcing you away,_ **

**_Before it's too late_ **

**_I end this day in a most bitter way_ **

**_A regretful state but…_ **

 

 

Two days later, Dean's sitting on top of a car in Bobby's yard when Castiel pays him a visit. He stands in front of Dean, watching him carefully before "stating a fact", "You're drunk".

"Yeah I know Cas", Dean chuckles bitterly.

"Dean, what's wrong?", Castiel asks, confused and honestly concerned, "You have been… acting weird lately".

"I'm not acting weird, Cas", Dean answers and takes another sip from his beer. He's lost count of the bottles he's emptied.

Castiel is silent for a minute. After that, he asks hesistantly, "Is it… because of me?"

Dean's head snaps up, his eyes wide and sober.

"Why… why would you think that?", he asks tentatively, trying to hide the way his voice is shaking.

"You have been avoiding me. Everytime I come to meet you and Sam, you don't say "Hey Cas", you never speak to me and you've tried to put the most distance between us whenever we're in the same room. If it's not because of me, then what would be the reason?"

For a moment, Dean doesn't know how to answer Castiel's question. He stares at the ground, the bottle hung in his fingers.

"It's because of me then", Castiel says and turns away, not knowing why he does so or why he doesn't like the thought that Dean wants to stay away from him.

"No", Dean's hand reaches out to grab Castiel and turn him around, and when Castiel's eyes look up at him, he can't help but move it up to cup Castiel's face. "No it's not because of you Cas. Okay?", he says and strokes down Castiel's cheek.

"Okay", Castiel says, "You should rest, Dean". Then he disappears, leaving Dean sigh and continue to drink his beer. He can't explain the way some warmth spreads and stirrs inside him when Dean touches his face. It's a little similar to the feeling he got when Dean threw his arm over his shoulders, laughed and made Castiel smile himself after they'd got out of the brothel. It's a little similar to the things Michael makes him feel, too, but at the same time, it's different. It feels like something he only feels towards Dean, and he likes it.

 

 

_"Castiel"_

_"Yes, Michael?"_

_"You're not focused on me. What are you thinking?"_

_"It's nothing, Michael"_

_"It really doesn't have to be this way. Sometimes I feel like you keep slipping away, despite our long relationship", he sighs above Castiel._

_Castiel doesn’t know how to reply to that. He strokes Michael's hair, still distracted by the thoughts and feelings about Dean._

Castiel's standing outside the Winchester's room in another no-name motel. They're arguing about something.

" _Talk_ to me, Dean", Sam pleads, sounding weary, "I don't know what you've been hiding from me, but there's one thing I know, it's no good, it's killing you! The drinking at night, the lack of sleep, the way you bury yourself in work at day only to get drunk at night. You think I haven't noticed? Tell me, Dean, what the hell is going on with you?"

"Let it go Sam ", Dean sounds even wearier, "Just let it go."

"Is it Castiel?", Sam asks suddenly after a silent moment. If angels do breathe, Castiel would be holding his breath right now.

Another silent moment passes by, then Dean says quietly, "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Tell me. The way you look at him sometimes when you think no one's looking. The way you've been avoiding him. Don't you tell me all of that is normal. What's going on, Dean? If it has something to do with Castiel why don't you talk to him?"

"And tell him what?", Dean snaps. "That I'm killing myself because of what I feel for him? That I can't tell him about it because he already belongs to another person, or angel? Or that everything I touch, I destroy and I don't wanna destroy anything anymore and that I should stay away from him so Michael would continue giving him his grace?", Dean blurts out yelling, and Sam is stunned by his brother's words.

"Michael is giving Cas grace?", Sam asks, atonished.

"Yes Sam. And I don't know how far from falling he is, but one there's one thing I know. I've seen a sex addicted, drug abusing _human_ Castiel when Zachariah sent me to the future, I've seen how my future self used him as a diversion and how he finally died, and I don't want him go anywhere near that road. I don't want him go anywhere near _me_."

Dean pants for breath, and then he continues, "So please, let it go, Sam. Let it go."

After what feels like forever, Sam says quietly, "Okay, Dean. Okay."

 

Outside the door, Castiel's not sure if his heart is beating properly.

 

 

_Castiel avoids Michael's hand when the older angel raises it to touch his face._

_"Castiel, what's wrong?", Michael asks, his voice dyed with worry and tenderness. His gaze is so intense Castiel feels like his brother is trying to look through his soul to reach the thoughts he's hiding, ones about Dean. Dean's words still echo inside his mind._

_"What I feel for him", Dean said. Castiel is burned with the want to know what feeling Dean's got towards him. All those behaviours, all those successive drinking nights, all the silent emotions in Dean's eyes, they were all because of Castiel,_ for _Castiel. Dean has suppressed what he feels, what he wants, for Castiel. And Castiel remembers the warm and soothing Dean's touch and the affection poured into that touch have given him. Angels are not supposed to feel, but he and his brother have felt so much for each other, yet there is nothing like what he's felt because of that single touch. He thinks he feels a completely different sort of comfort and almost happiness from what Michael has given to him._

_"Castiel", Michael's voice pulls him back to reality. Sadness and some sort of cryptic understanding are flooding Michael's eyes, and suddenly Castiel feels like he's just betrayed his brother and lover._

_"Castiel, is this because of Dean Winchester?", Michael asks quietly, somehow his voice is tinted with a frosty touch of coldness that Castiel flinches slightly._

_He looks up at Michael, and replies sadly, "I'm sorry, Michael"._

_"Why?", his brother asks, face emotionless and voice deadpan._

_"He's sacrificed for me, just like you, but for my sake, he even gives up the right to speak out his feelings. Michael, I think… I think I need time to decide my feelings… my heart's place"._

_Michael's jaw clenches, and he turns away, thinking he knows where the final destiny for Castiel's heart is. His brother has already belonged to another person long time ago. His fists tighten._

_"Michael…", Castiel says, looking at the ground, "I am certain that you know, using violence, you may win my body, my soul or my grace, but never my heart"._

 

 

**_Here I lay, I drift away,_ **

**_You come in and lay beside me_ **

**_It's got to be a memory that feels so real but just beyond me_ **

****

**_Mesmerized, in you I find_ **

**_What I had was unrealized but_ **

**_Emptiness settles in as I awake_ **

 

 

Two weeks later, Dean walks out of the bathroom to find Castiel standing beside his bed.

"Dean, we need to talk", he says gravelly, but his eyes are soft towards Dean.

"There's nothing to talk about, Cas", Dean thinks of the night in Bobby's yard.

"Dean…", Castiel begins but never finishes his sentence as there is a loud crash and the door is swung open. The three turn towards it to find a group of demons staring at them, their eyes black as coal.

"Dean and Sam Winchester. Oh, and your pretty angel boy. It's happy demon fun time, boys", a female demon glances at them, "Our father wants to meet you, Sam, alive, and you two", she turns towards Dean and Castiel, " _in pieces_ ".

Upon her words, the demons rushing into the room.

Sam and Dean have their weapons ready, while Castiel clenches his jaw and prepares his powers and quickly calculate the situation. There are twelve of them, there is surely no escape, if Castiel is fast enough, he can take down four of them while the Winchesters take care of the others.

With the speed of a lightning, he pins two demons to the wall, each hand on each of them's head. Sam uses his knife and Dean the knife Castiel gave him.

Sam has killed off four demons and Castiel has just finished his third one when they hear a choked sound. They turn around at once to find the last demon's knife sticked in Dean's stomach, his own knife dropped to the floor.

"No! Dean!", Sam shrieks and rushes to stab the demon with his knife. It falls down, and so does Dean, in Sam and Castiel's arms.

"Come on Dean. We'll get you to a hospital. Come on", Sam pleads, tears running down his face.

One of Castiel's shaking hand holds Dean's tightly, the other's on his face. This can't be happening. Not now. Not Dean. His fingers tremble against Dean's skin.

Dean brings weakening hand to Castiel's cheek, stroking his hair and face. A single tear streams down from Castiel's oceanic eye, and Dean smiles. He's so beautiful. An angel is crying for the first time, for him, and even when he's crying, he's so beautiful.

"Dean. Dean, stay with me. Please. Stay with me. I haven't even told you… that I love you too".

 Dean smiles. This one teardrop is the final ritual to purify his soul.

He strokes Castiel's face one more time.

"Cas. Don't fall down. Because an angel… should never touch ground".

Dean's hand drops to Castiel's on his face, and he closes his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
